


Unusual Visitors

by Guardian_of_Hope



Category: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, Fix-It, Gen, Time Travel, getting it done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 05:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17278328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_of_Hope/pseuds/Guardian_of_Hope
Summary: The Chancellor's speech is interrupted.  Wolffe doesn't die (of boredom).





	Unusual Visitors

**Author's Note:**

> There will be no encores or prequels. Just accept and go with it.

Wolffe was going to scream.  The Chancellor’s speech was droning on with all the excitement of watching the batches in their grow tubes, and all Wolffe could do was stand, facing straight ahead and do his best not show off that he was bored out of his mind.  He very carefully did not look at his General ahead of him, knowing that Plo was meditating on his feet, taking advantage of the goggles that covered his eyes to block out the visual distractions.

Wolffe wondered if any of the venerated Jedi Masters realized how often Plo meditated his way through these things.  He wished he had the sort of mental discipline that would allow a similar state.  He wasn’t the type to daydream, too many trainers had a sense for that thing to make him feel easy about relaxing.  Instead, Wolffe allowed his attention to drift, catching on things like Plo’s stance, or the way Boost’s armor creaked as he moved, and the way the dust motes danced in the sun, creating a not-quite pattern that was pretty.

Wolffe tensed as he looked back at the dust motes.  The sun was at the wrong angle to create that look. Torn between a lifetime of training and a need to shout a warning, Wolffe stared as the sparling motes began to spin.

“General,” Wolffe said quietly as small bits of lighting began to jump around the swiftly spinning notes.

“I see it,” Plo replied, just as soft.

Suddenly, the lighting snapped out, creating a circle easily as tall as a human with a blue black spiral within.  Two figured came out, an old man in what looked like battered trooper armor and a younger man with short black hair and scars on his face.  The old man opened fire on the Chancellor as soon as his lead foot hit the ground while the younger turned towards Wolffe and lifted a strange contraption.

A high pitched squeal sent Wolffe to his knees as his helmet’s comm system shrieked from feedback.  A sharp, agonizing pain ripped through his head from his right temple and forehead.

Then the pain was gone, and the feedback was fading.

“This explains why, this is for freeing the rest,” someone was saying.

“Ezra, time to go!”

“Right behind you Rex,” the first unknown voice said, “and one more thing, get Skywalker into therapy as soon as fucking possible, even if you have to drug him into it.  The Galaxy depends on it.”

“Ezra!”

“Coming Captain.”

Wolffe managed to pull his helmet up and looked up, watching as the young man joined the elder in front of the still active portal.  The old man looked at Wolffe for a long moment, then pushed the younger through the portal and followed.  Wolffe shoved himself to his feet, ignoring the way the room spun.

Plo was fine, holding the contraption the young man, Ezra, had brought.  Beyond him, a crowd was surrounding the Chancellor’s podium, as Wolffe focused on them an odd, loud wailing began.

“Chancellor Palpatine is dead,” someone said loudly.

For some reason, the room seemed a lot louder with that announcements.


End file.
